


Myosotis

by War_of_the_Words



Series: Player 2 [12]
Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Artist AU, Fluff, M/M, Reincarnation AU, Strangers to Lovers, the boys have been in love before and they will be in love again, you should know by now that im using flower language lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:34:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25620658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/War_of_the_Words/pseuds/War_of_the_Words
Summary: KID is a mysterious artist known for his mystifying paintings and their refusal to make a public appearance. Who are they? What is their purpose? People want answers, but before they can get any, KID produces one final piece of art before vanishing completely.Private Investigator Kudou Shinichi doesn't care about art, and has only heard a little about the case of the Phantom Artist KID from his friends. He is forced to take interest, however, when he comes to find out that KID's final painting bares a striking resemblance to himself. Now what would an artist like KID have to do with a detective?
Relationships: Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan/Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid
Series: Player 2 [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/586123
Comments: 19
Kudos: 239
Collections: kaishinbigbang 2020





	Myosotis

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my ksbb fic I made in collaboration with the incredibly talented qxiu! I'll add the link to her wonderful art work in a bit, but if you go to the ksbb tumblr it should be linked there!
> 
> EDIT: Art can be found [here!](https://qxiu.tumblr.com/post/625172024911921152/my-half-of-the-kaishinbigbang-this-year-with-two)

Shinichi stepped foot out of his cab. Hefting his messenger bag up over his shoulder, he breathed in the unfamiliar smells of downtown Ekoda. It wasn’t often he made trips over, especially since work kept him primarily confined to Beika, but the TMPD’s usual contact for this region was out of the country. 

Shinichi made careful notice of the street, fairly busy and clean as people went about their business. Except, of course, for the entrance to a particular alleyway that was swarming with curious bystanders. Shinichi sighed and shoved his way through, being careful not to knock over the children who kept running through the adults legs trying to get a better view. Shinichi didn’t understand why people would want to see a crime scene, sure everyone has some sort of morbid curiosity, but that doesn’t necessarily translate to actively trying to view someone’s tragic final moments. Reaching the other side of the mob, he was greeted to a familiar sight, officers diligently documenting the scene, the victim covered by a tarp to spare them from the prying public, a substantial pool of blood seeping out around the edges, a grim preview of the fate the victim met.

“Kudou! I’m glad you could make it!” Inspector Megure pulled himself away from a group of officers to greet him. “Victim’s female, Miyamoto Hanako, age forty three. She was found here by a resident in the apartment building she’s leaning against. Suspected robbery gone wrong, her purse was left behind but there was no money in her wallet nor anything else valuable. No cell phone either.” As Megure talked, Shinichi walked over to the tarp, pulling on a set of gloves. 

Time to get to work.

“-and that’s why our culprit had to call Miyamoto to this alleyway.” Shinichi’s eyes narrowed glaring down the small row of suspects they had managed to gather over the past hour. He looked like a predator, staring down its next unfortunate prey. This moment was when the adrenaline really started to kick in, watching the culprit come to the slow realization that he had cornered them and the anticipation of wondering how they would react always got Shinichi’s heart racing faster. “Because he knew that it would give him the best alibi, after all, no one should suspect the man who called it in, especially when he had no apparent relation to the victim.” Shinichi zeroed his focus in on Mr. Yamada, the older gentleman who had first called in the crime. “A man with a squeaky-clean image couldn’t let his affair be exposed, especially not when his sugar baby was planning to bring it up directly with his wife.” Yamada was shaking now, feverish panic in his eyes, desperately looking for a way to escape, but it was too late, the police were already moving to restrain him. Defeated, the man began to mumble the usual “‘I had too’s” and “‘She left me no choice’s”. Honestly, Shinichi couldn’t count how many times he had heard those excuses.

“Well done Kudou,” Megure said, giving Shinichi a hearty slap on the back. “We can always count on you.”

“I’m just doing what’s right, Inspector. I’ll be by the station later to give my statement, I just have some errands I need to run.” Shinichi gave a small wave and turned to leave, sighing at the crowd of onlookers still lurking around after all this time. The children Shinichi had to be careful not to trip over were still there too, and, unfortunately, standing at the very front of the crowd, looking starry-eyed up at Shinichi. 

“You are the guy in the painting!” the only girl said.

“We thought so when we first saw you, but after you found out who the culprit was and you got that look on your face we knew it was you!” the larger of the two boys said.

“How do you know KID? He’s never done a portrait before so you must be pretty important to them if they painted you!” the smaller boy said.

“Ayumi wants to know what KID looks like!” the girl, Ayumi apparently, said. Shinichi was incredibly overwhelmed. He had no idea what these kids were talking about. 

“I’m sorry,” Shinichi squatted down to their level and smiled, “I think you have me confused with someone else, I’ve never posed for anything before.”

“No but it’s you! We know it’s you in that painting! We all saw it yesterday and we’ve heard everyone talk about finding who the person in the painting is because everyone says that they’ve seen him before and KID must have painted a portrait for a reason and since KID hasn’t given the gallery another painting afterward everyone’s wondering where they went,” Ayumi rattled off looking intensely into Shinichi’s eyes.  
“Whoa, ok, I think I caught most of that.” The things the children were saying were starting to piece together. Sonoko and Ran had been talking a lot lately about a mysterious artist whose work had recently started appearing in Ekoda, they had asked him to stop by the Ekoda Artist Collective where the pieces were being shown and check it out for them. Mostly, Sonoko wanted Shinichi to go so he could convince Ran to go; Sonoko had become somewhat obsessed with the mysterious painter over the last month. These children had obviously been to the gallery, and apparently knew quite a bit about the intrigue surrounding the artist. “I really don’t know anything about this painting you're talking about, but I’ll go check it out.”

“Yay!” The girl threw her hands up in the air in victory. “We’ll take you! I’m Ayumi, that’s Genta and Mitsuhiko! Now let’s go!” Ayumi grabbed Shinichi’s hand and, in a surprising show of force, began to pull him down the street.

The Ekoda Artist Collective boasted a small, but popular gallery that was, more often than not, very busy. This was due in no small part to the mysterious new artist on the scene who became incredibly popular over the last few months due to their mystical and moving paintings. This is what Shinichi remembered having heard as the group of small children dragged him through downtown Ekoda to the modern looking exterior of the Collective. “The newest painting is really cool!” The larger boy, Genta, said, “it’s like one of those western fairytales!”

“A knight in shining armour!” Ayumi said, pulling him forward with an iron grip. “When I look at it, it makes me feel like a princess!” As they drew near, the children slowed down and Shinichi got a chance to look at the window displays outside of the Collective.

There were a couple pieces of other Ekoda artists’ work, and some promotional material about upcoming classes, but the main feature was a large poster with just three letters. KID. A small, what Shinichi guessed, signature below it, a cartoonishly simple drawing of someone in a tophat and monocle with a fiendish grin. Shinichi thought it was weird, but he thought a lot of things artists did was weird, so that was nothing new. “No one knows who KID is!” Mitsuhiko added, noticing Shinichi stopped to stare at the logo. “The people here said KID’s first painting just showed up like magic and the staff knew they had to show it off when they saw it! After the next few came in, they made KID a permanent feature in their gallery!”

“So even the staff have never seen them?”

“That’s what they say, but they might be lying.” Mitsuhiko shrugged, he seemed like the most level headed out of the children, so Shinichi took the opportunity to pry for more information. “Do _you_ think I look like this painting or are they exaggerating?” He gave Mitsuhiko a skeptical smile, expecting the boy to tell Shinichi about how silly the other two were being, afterall, why would someone ever use a detective as a model, especially without his consent.

“You look like him. Well, what we can see of him. I guess the painting _could_ look like anyone, but I just know that it's you.” That… was not what Shinichi had been expecting, but the boy looked dead serious when he said it. Shinichi looked back into the window display, the grin almost taunting him. 

“Ok then,” Shinichi said, heading toward the door, “Let’s see this painting.”

The gallery was crowded for two p.m. on a weekday. Other sections of the gallery had their crowds, but it was clear where the main attraction was. Shinichi had enough pushing through people for one day, so he was content to hang back for a while and hope the group thinned out. Instead, he wandered to the center of the room, just observing. It quickly became apparent where all of KID’s paintings hung in the room. It seemed like the staff spread them out so the other paintings had a chance and all of the people who came in to see this mysterious painter’s works wouldn’t cluster together in one place. Picking one of the smallest groups, Shinichi wandered over to the wall. His hypothesis was correct, he was standing in front of one of KID’s paintings.

The first thing he noticed was how life-like it was, the attention to detail was so incredible that Shinichi felt like he could step into the scene. It was night time, and the stars were outshone by the moon. The glow lit up the small cobblestone streets and revealed the billowing smoke rising in the night air. It was a peaceful scene, and it gave Shinichi a nostalgic, homey feeling. It was like the smell of spring, when the sweet scent of clover began to fill the air. The small plaque beside it was simple “The View From Up There”. KID. _Oil on canvas._

“Mr. Shinichi, come on!” Ayumi was grabbing his hand again, pulling him out of his reprieve. “The crowd’s gone down!” Shinichi made a noise of acknowledgement, allowing the small girl to pull him across the room to the far end of the wall. It was true, the crowd was practically nonexistent now, almost like magic considering how crowded it had been just moments ago. Ayumi dropped his hand as they reached their destination, the small girl having to back away to get a better view of the painting. “Isn’t it cool!”

Shinichi didn’t respond. He was too busy trying to piece together the painting in front of him. It wasn’t that the piece was complicated or abstract, it just felt like it was itching his brain and he couldn’t quite scratch it. A knight, kneeling, a sword gripped tightly in one hand while the other wrapped a cloak of midnight blue around him. His face was mostly covered by a helmet, but what could be seen was a piercing blue eye and just the phantom of a smile. This painting, like the last, had a feeling of nostalgia to it. A little in the sense that it reminded Shinichi of the fairytales his mother would read to him when he was little, but the other was a weird kind of deja vu. Even stranger was that it wasn’t that he had seen this image, or someone posed like the image, but like he was the knight, at least, had been in a similar position to the knight. He had the faintest inkling of having been joking with someone, teasing them and them teasing back. He can feel his chest tighten as he thinks about the person laughing and smiling at his antics and… that’s not something he’s felt in quite a while. There were ghosts of words in Shinichi’s mouth, but his tongue didn’t know how to speak them into life. Staring into the piercing gaze of the portrait, Shinichi searched for an explanation. Why is this so familiar? Was this merely the product of incredible artwork or was it truly some memory that Shinichi forgot? He looked to the plaque, but it held no answers. _Oil on canvas_. KID. “Him”.

“Mr. Shinichi sir?” Ayumi tugged at the hem of his shirt, “Are you ok? You look really sad.” The girl had pulled him out of his thoughts, he had forgotten where he was.

“I’m ok,” he smiled at the small girl, “This painting is just really impressive, that’s all.”

“When we saw the way you stared down the bad guy in the alley, we all agreed you looked like him.”

“I can see that,” Shinichi mumbled more to himself than Ayumi. His eyes were still scanning the canvas, each and every brushstroke could be a clue to the new mystery. Shinichi needed to find who KID was, and he needed them to give him answers.

Shinichi parted ways with the children, only after agreeing to give them his phone number and, well, Shinichi just couldn’t say no. He needed some time to collect thought so he beelined for the nearest park and let himself wander.

Before leaving the gallery, he had talked to the staff, but they were mostly tightlipped on the subject of KID’s identity. The gallery saw it as some kind of artistic statement KID was making and didn’t want to jeopardize that. So instead Shinichi settled for picking up the promotional pamphlets the gallery had put together that detailed everything from their perspective, when they first started receiving paintings, how they had seemed to have built a relationship with the artist, and how the public response had been. It was obviously a little exaggerated, but it was basically an advertisement so Shinichi could let it slide. 

So all he had to go off was some dates and the vague notion that the gallery had some form of communication with KID; although, some of the reactions the staff had when Shinichi mentioned KID’s recent inactivity lead him to believe the artist hadn’t been in contact with them recently either. But Shinichi could start searching for relevant newspaper articles that might have gotten more information from the gallery, and then there was Sonoko. Shinichi knew the best course of action, although he was a little reluctant, he hated owing Sonoko favors. He sighed and pulled out his phone.

“Hey Ran, can you and Sonoko meet up for lunch?”

“I can, I don’t know about Sonoko, is it an invitation from me or from you?” Bless Ran and her willingness to play mediator. “From me, remind her that I went to Ekoda today and,” he sighed again, “tell her that I have a favor to ask.”

“A favor? This must be serious,” Shinichi could hear the smugness in Ran’s voice, it wasn’t often that Shinichi admitted defeat and asked for help, “What could possibly stump the Great Detective of the East?”

“I’ll tell you when we meet up, although Sonoko will probably be able to guess. What’s the name of that cake buffet you and Sonoko have been talking about?”

“Madam Madeline’s? This really is serious,” Ran laughed, “We’ll meet you there.” Ran hung up and Shinichi swallowed his pride, if he wanted the best information, Sonoko couldn’t be beat, especially when it came to Sonoko’s current obsessions.

The cafe was French Rococo inspired with pastel colored walls and gold-trimmed everything. Shinichi didn’t understand it, but the girl’s seemed to love it. They also loved the four and a half meter long cake table that ran down the center of the restaurant. Shinichi watched them from afar as they made their way around, looking at the preposterous amount of cake. At least the place had good coffee.

“So,” Shinichi looked up from his coffee to see Ran and Sonoko returning with their spoils, “The Heisei Holmes has come crawling for information.” Sonoko smirked, sitting down across from him as Ran took the seat beside him.

“I know, I’m not proud of it, but a detective has to use the best sources of information.”

“So this is about KID then?” Sonoko leaned across the table, her excitement overwhelming the teasing narcissism, “I thought so, but what finally sparked your interest? Ran said you’d been in Ekoda for a case, did you stop by the Ekoda Artist Collective?” She squealed when Shinichi nodded, “Their work is _so_ different in person! There are some promo shots of some of the earlier paintings online but they don’t compare to the real thing, you know? And when I saw their latest painting, _Him_ , it’s their best yet, at least, I think so.”

“Some kids stopped me when I was leaving the crime scene, they said I looked like the painting.”

“ _You?_ I mean, full offense, Shinichi, but you could never compare to the beauty that is KID-sama’s work, although…” Sonoko squinted in concentration, studying Shinichi’s face, “I mean, your eyes might be the same color, and it’s not like much of the knight’s face is showing in the painting…”

“The kids said it was when they saw the face I made when I found the culprit, which I don’t really know-”

“Your deduction face.” Ran and Sonoko said at the same time.

“First it’s the intense concentration,” Ran said, bringing her hand up to her chin, acting like she was deep in thought.

“And then it’s that stupid smirk you get when you figure it out,” Sonoko finished. “Make that face, Shinichi, I need to see if the kids were right.”

“Sonoko, you know Shinichi could never just do it on command, you have to trick him into doing it.”

“I’m right here,” Shinichi pouted. He felt a little hurt, so what if he had a thinking face! Everyone makes faces when they have to think hard! Just because he had to do it often wasn’t any excuse to bully him.

“Shinichi, what would you say your favorite deduction scene is in _The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_?”

“Hmm, well,” Shinichi said, immediately forgetting the insult, “They are all good in different ways but I would have to say it’s where Holmes looks at the culprit and- What, why are you smirking like that?”

“A, because you were starting to imitate the scene like a nerd, and, B, because you walked right into my trap,” Ran said, taking a triumphant bite of cake.

“He does look like the painting!” Sonoko half shouted, her eyes were wide and slightly crazed. “Great, know I’m only going to be able to think of the Holmes nerd when I see it.” She slumped back in her chair and crossed her arms, clearly annoyed.

“Don’t act like that’s my fault, blame KID for making the painting look like me.”

“Don’t you dare try to pin the blame on KID-sama! Although…” Sonoko stabbed at one of her many cakes, “Why does the painting look so much like you? KID could have seen you in the news or something and used your likeness, but it feels deeper than that. I can’t explain why, but it does.”

“Maybe it’s someone who actually knows Shinichi?” Ran chimed in, “Does anyone in the TMPD paint as a hobby?”

“Only one rookie, that I know of, and from what I’ve seen, he is nowhere near the skill level of KID.”

“And it’s not like there’s a way to contact KID, right?” Ran asked, looking to Sonoko who nodded solemnly. “And the fan club has no clue who KID could be?”

“Well, a lot of them just want to respect KID’s privacy, if they don’t want to be publicly known, the club doesn’t want to force them into the spotlight.”  
“But you’ve bugged me about finding out who KID is,” Shinichi said which prompted a shrug from Sonoko.

“I want to know who KID is, but I wouldn’t tell anyone else, it would be for my own satisfaction.”

“So I assume you’ve been trying to find hints?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s practically nothing.”

“Practically nothing isn’t nothing, spill.”

“It might not be anything, but there have been a couple cases where some fans of KID’s work posted some messages online about how KID’s work has affected them and the next day, either at their work or a place they frequent, there were some flowers left for them.”

“Flowers? What kind of flowers?”

“I don’t know, I’m not a flower expert. I know one girl got a rose- Here.” Sonoko pulled out her phone and quickly pulled up a page, handing her phone over to Shinichi.

The URL was for a subreddit about KID and Sonoko had pulled up a thread about these flowers. Shinichi started scrolling through the photos, most of which were dated between KID’s second and third paintings. There was a picture of a small vase of flowers on someone’s desk at work, another on a student desk, and yet another at a coffee shop, accompanied with some comment about having her usual drink prepared and paid for when she walked in. The bouquets were all five or six flowers each, usually in pinks or yellows, there was the one who received a rose, which Shinichi might have thought meant something except for a more notable pattern. Shinichi didn’t know a whole lot about flowers, but he could tell that none of the flowers were the exact same, every bouquet was different, except for one sprig of blue flowers that appeared in every picture.

“Do you know anything about those blue flowers?” Shinichi asked, not taking his eyes off of the phone.

“Not really, we know they’re forget-me-nots, but that’s about it,” Sonoko replied “People noticed they kept coming up, but everyone just agreed it was a small way for KID to ask for their continued support.”

“Forget-me-not, huh?” Shinichi did a quick google image search for the plant; the flowers were tiny star-shaped things, only impressive in that they grew in such large groups. “Wasn’t there a trend in Victorian England using flowers to send messages?”

“Floriography?” Ran chimed in. “I went through a phase back in middle school, it wasn’t very long-lived, but I bought a flower dictionary.” Something about the flowers stuck out to Shinichi, he couldn’t quite name it, but something in the back of his mind was screaming at him that flowers were important.

“Ran, could I borrow that book?”

“Huh? Sure, you can keep it if you want, I haven’t touched it in years.”

“You’re making your thinking face again,” Sonoko said, smirking, “so spill, what kind of plan are you brewing?”

What Shinichi was brewing was a completely stupid plan that was unlikely of actually working. Not only had KID not communicated with anyone in over a month, but the means of communication was full of potential failings. There were probably simpler ways to go about this, but Shinichi felt that this was what he had to do. 

He had picked up the flower book from Ran’s and set to work studying it. It was surprisingly more complex than Shinichi had first imagined. Once he figured out the message he wanted to send, he scoured Beika’s flower shops for what he needed. It was a little odd buying individual flowers, but he had to do what he had to do. In the end, he had a bouquet of aster, camellia, coriander, fern, iris, lisianthus, monkshood, narcissus, phlox, and a single forget-me-not. He wasn’t planning on including the flower, he had no need to ask KID not to forget him, but it was like an itch in the back of his mind couldn’t be scratched unless he did.

He brought the bundle of flowers to the Collective just before dawn, he had no reason to think so, but he hoped KID might pass by before the gallery opened and take notice of the bouquet. It was a long shot, but he hoped the quirky nature of the message would be enough to retain KID’s attention.

What Shinichi hoped it said was, “This is a message, I appreciate your work, but there is a hidden meaning. I think I look like the knight. I feel like we have a connection somehow. I will patiently wait for your reply.Forget me not.”

He left the flowers just below the window advertising KID’s works, along with a small card that said nothing except Shinichi’s name. Shinichi took another look at the dark display before he left, his eyes always coming back to the strange character. Top hat, monocle, toothy grin. Shinichi’s heart beat louder, he could feel his breath come up short. His reaction to everything about this mysterious artist always hit him like a train, crashing into him leaving him breathless and dazed. 

Shinichi was a man of logic, and nothing about KID made any sense.

It was a week before Shinichi’s gamble paid off. Ran had invited Shinichi to Poirot’s for brunch, a regular occurrence. He had arrived, like he always does, a couple minutes late. Ran expected this, of course, so she would show up after Shinichi, not wanting to be left waiting. Shinichi entered the mostly empty cafe, a couple sitting against the far wall chatting and laughing, an older man at the counter sipping on a cup of coffee. What caught Shinichi’s eye was his usual table by the window, a vase of flowers was set in the center, the only one in the store. A small card was set on the edge of the table, and as Shinichi got closer, he could read what it said. _Kudou Shinichi,_ plain as day in an elegant script.

“That appeared this morning,” a waitress said, setting a couple glasses of water on the table, “It wasn’t there when we came in, but just after opening it was sat there. We hadn’t seen or heard anyone come in, it was a little spooky.”

“Sorry,” Shinichi gave a polite smile, “I think a friend might have tried to surprise me.”

“Don’t be,” the waitress laughed, “They really brightened up the place.” The waitress walked away and Shinichi took a seat. Gently, he studied the flowers, hydrangea, alyssum, chrysanthemum, daisy, flax, freesia, a pencil-leaf geranium. And in the center of the bouquet, a forget-me-not. “I’m surprised you messaged me this way. I’m glad you understood, the painting has more meaning than it appears, the truth is I don’t know what it means, but I feel like we can figure this out. Forget me not.” Shinichi was a little shocked, his plan had worked, KID had responded, and it seemed like the artist was willing to communicate like this. Sonoko was going to freak out.

“Aw, Shinichi, did you get me flowers?” Ran slid into her seat across from him. Shinichi shook his head and held up the card. “Oh? A secret admirer then?” Ran gave him a cheeky smile. Then she saw the way he was lost in thought. “Oh my god, this is their response?”

“The wait staff said it showed up this morning.”

“And you can understand it?” Ran was staring intently at the flowers, her brows furrowed, trying to remember the different meanings. Shinichi explained the different flowers and what they meant.

“Basically, they are happy I gave them the bouquet and they are curious and willing to talk to me.”

“That’s awesome! Are you going to keep leaving flowers in front of the Collective?”

“No, I’ll leave them here. If KID knew enough about me to leave these here, they’ll probably come back to find a response.”

“How did the wait staff not hear them come in,” Ran said, mostly to herself than Shinichi.

“That’s what I want to know, they’re like a phantom, never seen but constantly felt.”

“I really hope they aren’t a ghost,” Ran shivered, “That would be the worst.” Shinichi laughed.

“I highly doubt that, but they certainly are a mystery. Shinichi pulled the forget-me-not out of the bouquet and twirled the delicate flower between his fingers. The blue color a stark contrast against the neutral tones of the cafe.

“What a strange flower,” Ran mused, “but I like them, I don’t know why.”

Communication between Shinichi and KID went on for weeks. Each time Shinichi saw a new bouquet on the Poirot table, his heart fluttered, he felt like a kid on Christmas. As time went on, he felt like he could understand more and more of the nuances of the flowers. Dictionary meanings became full sentences. The mystery artist became someone Shinichi felt so close too, it was almost easy to forget he had no idea who they were. Their secret messages were for the two of them and no one else. 

This, of course, drove Sonoko up the wall when she found out Shinichi had been communicating with her favorite artist but refused to include her. “What do you mean you’ve _talked_ to them!” She’d yelled when she joined Ran and Shinichi for brunch one day. Shinichi had brought flowers to leave for KID, and Ran had failed to warn him that Sonoko would be there. She teased him about bringing Ran flowers, although they all knew both Shinichi and Ran had outgrown their crushes on one another. Without thinking, Shinichi mentioned they were for someone else, which just prompted Sonoko to bug him about it until he broke. Well, it was probably better to rip the bandaid off early.

“Not so much talked as...messaged?”

“With flowers? You don’t even include a note? You know, so you can use words?”

“I...I didn’t think about that. And, I don’t know, that feels… wrong, in a way.”

“I can’t believe you,” Sonoko sighed, “You can’t ever take the easy route, huh? Well, anyway, have your flowery words revealed why KID’s painting looks like you?”

“Well, no. KID has said that the painting does look like me, and they say they don’t know why. They’ve also said something about the paintings being more than meets the eye? But flowers don’t have an extensive vocabulary.”

“So what have you two been talking about this whole time?” Ran asked, having been content to just watch Sonoko lose a little more sanity with every word Shinichi said. “You’ve gotten a lot of flowers at this point.”

“I can’t tell you,” Shinichi said, probably a bit too quickly. Ran gave him a knowing look and Shinichi tried to remain composed.

Through the flowers, Shinichi and KID were saying things Shinichi never could out loud, messages about the artist’s cleverness and skill were returned with messages of appreciation and admiration of Shinichi’s work. The sight of the edelweiss and black-eyed susans shouldn’t have made Shinichi blush like he did. 

“So? Are you going to meet them? Are you going to introduce me to them?” Sonoko was leaning over the table, seemingly unaware of the violation of Shinichi’s personal space.

“Only if they feel comfortable, I don’t want to pressure them into doing something they don’t want to.”

“You’re such a gentleman.” Sonoko sat back and laughed, “Fine, but if you keep caring about them this much, Shinichi, you’re going to have to bring them before Ran and I for judgement.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” Shinichi took a long drink of his coffee as Sonoko cackled. He couldn’t tell if Sonoko had been a queen in her past life, or a witch. Probably both, he mused.

His friends might be teasing him about it, but he enjoyed every miniscule connection he had to KID. Despite their limited form of communication, he could feel the artist’s wit and humor in the messages they exchanged. He could especially feel the kindness they radiated. He felt like he could go on forever talking to the artist this way.

Then the latest bouquet appeared. It was different then the others, nine roses of different colors, white and red, crimson and pink, and two forget-me-nots tucked into the center. The meaning of the flowers startled Shinichi, he wasn’t sure whether or not to think of it as a romantic gesture or some kind of code KID sent him. More than that, his gaze was once again pulled to the forget-me-nots. Two, they never sent each other more than one forget-me-not, there wasn’t any particular significance to the amount of forget-me-nots sent, unlike the roses, but Shinichi knew there was a meaning to it, deeper than the standard floriography. It was on the tip of his tongue, the knowledge swimming in the depths of his mind but unable to come forward. It was frustrating. 

“Wow.” Shinichi was shaken from his thoughts as Ran appeared. Shinichi was suddenly aware of the looks he was getting from the other patrons, saw the whispers they exchanged, some had gotten used to the presence of the flowers, but that was before someone had sent a bouquet of roses, and everyone knew what roses meant.

“Is it a code?” Except Ran, apparently, who was too indoctrinated to Shinichi’s weird life to think it was some kind of confession.

“Maybe? I honestly don’t know, this isn’t like any other bouquet they’ve sent. Look,” Shinichi pulled out the two forget-me-nots.

“Definitely a code then,” Ran gingerly took them from Shinichi’s hand. Her expression softened, smiling at the flowers with a far-away look in her eyes, like she was lost in a memory. “It’s two lovers, meeting at last.”

“What?”

“Huh?” Ran looked up, quizzically, “Did you say something?”

“No, but you did, do you know something about them?” Shinichi pointed at the flowers.

“No,” Ran shook her head, her nose scrunched in confusion, “I don’t know why I said that, it just kind of came out. I guess since I only ever see the one flower it was like it finally had someone? Don’t pay attention to me, I’m just rambling.”

“No, no, you’re not.” Shinichi looked at the pale blue petals. That irritating feeling came back again, he felt like he was on the receiving end of some kind of dramatic irony, like part of him knew what was going on, screaming at him to see it, but he was oblivious to the truth. He hated it. “I think you’re right, I think KID wants to meet me.”

“Really? That’s fantastic! Maybe you can finally get some answers about that painting!”

The painting, Shinichi had nearly forgotten all about that. He had just been enjoying ‘talking’ with KID, it came so naturally to him, like he had done it a long time ago.

“Ran, I never had amnesia, right? I know I’ve gotten injured pretty bad, but I never had amnesia.”

“Not that I know of, but if you’re thinking that all of this is familiar, I feel that way too.” Ran looked far away again, “It feels like you’re doing something potentially dangerous, like if something goes wrong I might never see you again, but I don’t know why, there’s no reason to believe KID would do anything, right?”

“No, no they wouldn’t, I swear, this just keeps getting weirder.”

“Well, then we better talk to KID, see what they can tell us. Do you know where they want to meet?”

Shinichi looked at the bouquet of roses, and it suddenly hit him, “Yeah, I think I do, I just have to tell them when.”

His reply was simple, four white poplars, a mayflower, two forget-me-nots. The first day of May, four o’clock.

The Haido City Botanical Gardens were infamous for their terrible upkeep. Sure, the plants were healthy, but the paths, once beautiful stone, were cracked and full of weeds. Trellises were shedding paint as flowering vines grew untamed, nearly swallowing the structures whole. The wrought iron benches were dirty and breaking, several had sections of the seat missing, making them unusable. Needless to say, the gardens didn’t get very many visitors. The reason Shinichi believed this was the place KID intended, however, was that there was a small rose garden hidden in the depths of the grounds. 

Shinichi wandered the grounds for a while before he found it, a small side path led him past several wisteria trees before leading into a clearing where he was faced with a wall of rose bushes. They were wild, unkempt things, blooming in a near impossible rainbow of color. The dense bushes were planted in a large circular shape, prompting Shinichi to wander along them in order to find a break to reach the center.

He did, eventually, if the crumbling stone on the ground was any indication. The opening was almost non-existent now, the large bushes barely leaving any room for someone to pass through.

Once inside, the garden was like a different universe. The path turned into a semicircle of stone, lined with arches covered in roses, all in a variety of unique colors, shades of blue and purple, along with black and hot pink and dual colored roses. Past the arches was a lawn of plush looking grass, partially covered in fallen petals. On this side, the rose bushes seemed more robust, more flowers bloomed so it was almost like walls entirely made of flowers. Shinichi wandered further within, admiring the magic of it, when he heard footsteps approaching. The person who entered the garden was a man about Shinichi’s age, with unkempt brown hair and a fit physique. The man was dressed plainly, in paint splattered jeans and an open button up shirt with a tee underneath. At first, he watched the ground, but as he passed through the bushes he looked up and his eyes. Oh, his eyes.

The moment he met his eyes, Shinichi felt his heart stop. He had to remind himself to breathe. Then his eyes were stinging, burning, and he could feel tears just waiting to fall. But that didn’t make any sense, it was very unlike Shinichi to cry. Maybe it was just the relief of finally finding out who KID was (even if the man hadn’t said it yet, Shinichi knew), his body is just releasing the stress he had been holding on to. But that wasn’t quite right either, Shinichi had definitely been far more stressed over a mystery before, but he had never cried. Plus, it would be very embarrassing to cry in front of someone he had never met before, it would be a bad first impression. No matter, Shinichi wasn’t the son of a famous actress for nothing. His mother had taught him how to withhold emotion a long time ago, she said it would be useful to be able to always look composed no matter the circumstance. It had certainly come in handy when facing down criminals, this should be a cake walk. Shinichi closed his eyes and took a slow breath. He met the artist’s eyes again and gave him a polite smile.

At least, that’s what he tried to do. Instead of the confident persona he tried to don, the tears came back ten-fold. Shinichi wiped at his eyes, but the harder he tried to dry his face, the more furious his sobs became. He could barely stop himself from making the ugly sounds a kid might when they cried, which resulted in Shinichi having to desperately gulp in air.

On one hand, he was incredibly confused as to why this was happening, on the other, it felt like there was a deep sadness stirring in his heart along with an unbearable mixture of happiness and relief. It was so staggering that Shinichi felt like he could lose his balance. He dropped to the ground, still wiping furiously at his eyes.

The next thing he knew, he felt arms wrap around him and a face bury in his shoulder. He felt the other body shake and he felt a wetness seep into his shoulder. The sound of the artist’s shaking breaths, much like Shinichi’s, and the way he grabbed fistfuls of Shinichi’s jacket, like he was desperate to keep Shinichi there, made Shinichi lean into the other and return the embrace.

They didn’t know each other. They had yet to introduce themselves. The most interaction they had were the gifts of flowers they had been leaving, and that’s hardly getting to know a person. Yet here they were, blubbering like idiots in the middle of the Haido City Gardens. KID raised his head. “Why are we crying?” His voice, although hindered by crying, was honey sweet to Shinichi’s ears. Tears left trails across his face, his strange indigo irises seemed more purple against his now red eyes. He smiled at Shinichi, but it was adorably wonky. Shinichi giggled and shook his head.

“I have no idea.” This made KID laugh, and now it was the two of them, laughing and crying in the middle of the roses. The cracked stone uncomfortable beneath them, but neither seemed to care.

❀

They had started as dreams. Incredibly vivid dreams, but dreams nonetheless. After a week of having the same dream, Kaito had painted it in the hopes that if he got it onto canvas it would stop. 

Kaito had become somewhat skilled at art with his time drawing schematics of new tricks, he found the more detail he put into them, the easier they were to bring to reality. Not to mention, the vividness of his dreams didn’t hurt.

He was alone on a rooftop. The building was made of large, cut stone, and his brain told him it was a castle. From where he stood on top of the castle wall, he could see out to the village below. Lights dotted the landscape as those with busy minds stayed up long past they should, the night being more than half over. Smoke tumbled out of chimneys in slow, voluminous clouds, the early spring air still holding the chill of a long winter. Still further, Kaito could see rolling hills, tilled in preparation for the coming planting season. He would love to see the sun rise from here, but he knew it would be impossible for him to stay there too long. Kaito didn’t know why that was the case, but, again, dream logic. His clothes were weird too. He wore a long black cloak with a hood shadowing his face from view. Underneath, he wore an obnoxiously white suit, far more vibrant and clean than should be humanly possible, even his shoes were spotless, reflecting the moonlight. He also knew he carried a tophat under one arm. All in all, it was quite the cliche magician outfit, but Kaito didn’t think it meshed well with the medieval scenery around him.

When Kaito painted the dream, he left out himself, not wanting his clothing to distract from the view. He figured it was just silly dream logic anyway.

Dream logic, he kept telling himself that. It was dream logic that they were more like watching a movie. It was dream logic that he was lucid but never able to take control. He made excuse after excuse. But he couldn’t excuse the way the dream continued to haunt him after he painted it. He couldn’t excuse the way a part of himself seemed to scream at him to share the painting with the world, so that everyone can see, so that _he_ can see-

He? He who? Kaito never intended for his paintings to see the light of day, and he had a small collection of paintings prior to the dream painting. Maybe he was subconsciously thinking about his dad? He didn’t know, but he thought leaving the painting for the Ekoda Artists Collective might not be a bad idea. Except for the fact he didn’t want anyone to know it was him. His paintings felt really personal, something he did for himself, not for an audience like his magic. It would be fine, he thought, as long as he used a fake name.

KID. That was the name that instantly came to mind. So he wrote the painting details on a small card, title, medium, his pseudonym, and signed it with a smiley face. Well, it was kind of a smiley face. He didn’t know where it came from, but he liked it.

He was surprised when he and Aoko stopped by the collective on an outing and he saw his painting, proudly on display near the front of the gallery, a small placard beside it explaining how none of the staff knew who submitted the painting or how it came into the gallery, but they all fell in love with it.

If Kaito hadn’t been keeping his identity secret he probably would have burst out in celebration. He always thought he had been a good artist, but validation was always nice.

The dream stopped after that, which was a relief, until a week went by and he realized he was having a repeating dream again. So he painted that too, and when he dropped it off to the collective, he left an email address, one just for this, so he could talk with the staff. He just felt it was the right thing to do.

The first email he got from them was so enthusiastic he thought it was a joke. But they told him how much they loved his first piece, how it seemed to pull them to a different time, a different world, and Kaito was a mixture of flattered and curious. A different world, yeah, that was one way to describe what was happening.

He continued with this pattern for weeks. He would have a recurring dream, he would paint it, send it to the collective, repeat. It wouldn’t have been so bad if those dreams hadn’t started affecting his reality.

They always came out of nowhere. Flashbacks to things he couldn’t remember afterwards, just lingering feelings. He started to recognize triggers. Jewelry ads on T.V. always left him with an adrenaline rush, but he couldn’t tell if it was like he was on a rollercoaster or about to die. Aoko saw it happen one time and asked him why he had such a demented grin on his face. “You look like some kind of movie villain,” she had told him.

The sight of a police officer did the same. He could feel his heart rate spike and fear flood his system. Never intense enough to pose too much of a problem, but it wasn’t fun, especially when he ate breakfast with one every morning. He hated having Inspector Nakamori look at him with so much concern, the man had enough to worry about with his job, Kaito didn’t want to be another stressor. He hated even more the lingering feeling that Nakamori would arrest him if he wasn’t careful. But careful of what? Being a secret artist?

He had urges to scale buildings, just to be able to get a good view. He hated feeling confined to the ground. Kaito might be an adrenaline junkie, but he wasn’t about to break and enter. Plus, he didn’t want to fall, he didn’t have his...his?

That happened most often. His brain would start to think of something, but then just… trail off. Thinking in incomplete sentences was never fun and just left him confused.

It all came to a climax after he dreamed of _him_ . That’s all he could call him. That or “the knight”. The first time, he couldn’t remember any more than a few seconds, just flashes of a helmet covering a face, a confident smile, blue eyes. But what shade of blue? The first time Kaito wasn’t even sure the knight was a man. All he knew was that he woke up crying, gentle tears that slowly made their way down his cheeks. His heart _ached_. It felt like someone had taken it from his chest and all that left was a void of loneliness. He wanted to reach for his phone and call someone, but he didn’t know who. Not Aoko or his mom, he knew it was someone specific, but they didn’t have a name.

The next few times he had the dream, they became clearer and clearer. The scene stretched to minutes and he could remember every second in perfect detail, everything except the words they exchanged. He knew he was speaking to the knight, he could feel himself talking, but it was like someone had pressed mute. But he could see the way the knight laughed at something he had said, a faint smile hidden beneath the shadow of his helmet. If only he could hear what he was saying, then maybe he could understand why he always felt so terribly lonely when he woke up.

They were standing on top of the castle, just like in the first dream Kaito had. He was looking at that amazing view when he felt someone approach him. He turned and the knight stood there, Kaito’s conscious mind was intimidated the first time he saw him. His armour was black as the night sky, a deep blue cape fluttered in the night wind behind him. It was a ceremonial set of armour, but it didn’t stop him from looking like he could knock Kaito out with one solid punch. His dream self wasn’t afraid, however, and he felt a rush of happiness when he saw him. The knight would then drop his perfect, intimidating posture, looking much more relaxed. They would start speaking, and Kaito could feel the smirk on his face. Kaito stood at the edge of the wall the entire time, but the knight casually moved closer. Just in front of Kaito, he dropped to one knee, making incredibly dramatic gestures. Kaito could feel himself laugh, the kind where it almost becomes hard to breathe. The knight gazed up at him, his own self-satisfied smirk on his face, and for just a moment, Kaito could see one of his eyes. They were a brilliant blue, more rich than the cape wrapped around him, and they had mischief swirling within, as well as an emotion Kaito hesitated to name. He didn’t want to become so attached to a man who didn’t exist. 

The next moment, Kaito woke up. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. It was almost four-thirty in the morning and the image of the knight lingered in his mind. The look on his face, like Kaito was a puzzle he knew how to solve, and the color of his eyes. He jumped out of bed and rushed to his easel. He picked up the biggest canvas he had and set to work.

He didn’t remember much of the painting process. It was almost a dream in and of itself. His hand worked with a mind of its own, his thoughts still stuck on his dreams. They had never had such an intertangled narrative before. He was starting to believe they weren’t just dreams, but he didn’t know what else they could be.

He worked the whole day, no breaks, no realization of the passing time. When he realised he had a completed piece in front of him, it was dark out, same as it was when he started. He probably should have been worried about how hyper-focused he had become, but he decided that he was too hungry to think about it. He made his way to his kitchen to raid his fridge before slinking back into his bed and passing out.

He woke up to several texts from Aoko, all in increasing amounts of worry before he realised the sound of someone walking around downstairs. He made his way back to the kitchen to find Aoko making him breakfast.

“You could have made it at yours,” he said instead of a greeting. Aoko, who had her back to him when he walked in, jumped.

“You look like death,” she said when she turned around. “What were you doing yesterday? Do you know how many times I texted you? And now it’s almost noon.”

“I was working on something,” he replied, starting to set the table. He really didn’t want to have to explain to Aoko about the weird dreams he had been having.

“I’m all for you working on you magic, Kaito, but you have to learn to take breaks.”

“I know, but that’s what you’re here for.” He grinned at Aoko, but all he got was a bored look in return.

“Whatever, loser. How do you want your eggs?”

Aoko left after brunch and a lecture about how Kaito needed to take better care of himself. He saw her out then retreated back to the scene of the crime. The painting was just as he left it, but now he could look at his work. He thought it was about as accurate to the scene as it could be. The shine of the knight’s armour in the moonlight, the unique curve of his lips in the smile, and the intensity of the eye. He didn’t know if everyone else would feel the same feeling that Kaito did when they saw it. He hoped they didn’t, the cartwheels his stomach was doing wouldn’t make for a pleasurable viewing experience.

He felt one thing for sure. This was the last painting he would display. It was already so intimate, and he started making these paintings as a way to try to quell the recurring dreams, but they only seemed to get more intense the more he painted. He had a notebook full of sketches that were just things that came to him _while he was awake_. 

Some of them were magic tricks, others were different kinds of gems. Incomplete faces and different scenery. And flowers. His notebooks were full of flowers, most of them just one kind. Forget-me-nots. Single ones, some in twos, some were whole bouquets. He colored a few in, some in purple or pink, most in a pale blue. That’s why he responded to the kind messages with bouquets. Not only was he just trying to return a kind gesture, but the image of the forget-me-not wouldn’t escape him. The flower was important to him, but he didn’t know why.

He had to stop painting. If it could make him paint a whole day away, he didn’t know what continuing to indulge in this habit might make him do. So he scrawled out the information, set the painting aside so he could take it to the Collective later, and packed up all his art supplies and banished them to a downstairs closet. At least for now, he wouldn’t pick up another brush.

The response to his last painting had been bigger than all of the ones before. What had just been interest in a talented mystery artist turned into a frenzy. He didn’t know why people had resonated with the painting so much, and on one hand, he was glad people did, but on the other he felt like something private had been ripped away from him.

A lot of people online were speculating about the painting’s meaning, and Kaito’s vague title for the work didn’t help matters. Kaito hadn’t submitted a portrait before, either, so some people were trying to figure out if Kaito had painted himself or someone close to him. It was fun for a while, watching everyone freak out over something he had done, but the longer it went on, the less he wanted to think about it.

His dreams hadn’t stopped either, and the instances of brief memories during the day were increasing in frequency. Going out had begun to become incredibly troublesome. He tried to stay home as often as possible, turning down as many group outings with Aoko as possible and taking as many days off work as he could. He knew people were worrying about him, but they all bought the excuse that he wanted time to develop new routines.

And he would be doing just that if whatever was going on with him hadn’t been affecting his magic as well. Everytime he sat down to try to think up new tricks, he was bombarded with tricks and gadgets he had seen in his dreams. Some of them were cool, but once he started thinking about anything related to dreams it would send him down a rabbit hole and before he knew it hours would go by where he was just stuck in his head, trying to piece together a picture that was too finely ripped apart. 

One day, he just couldn’t stand it, and went out on a walk to clear his head. He didn’t know where he was going, he just let his feet take him wherever they could. A decision he regretted when he ended up outside the Collective. It didn’t open for another hour, so no one was around. However, below the display window, which he found unbearably embarrassing, was a small vase of flowers.

Interesting.

They were below the KID window, so… they must be for him, right? Making sure the coast was clear, Kaito snatched the vase and walked home. When he arrived, he set the flowers in front of him on the kitchen table. Aster, camellia, coriander, fern, iris, lisianthus, monkshood, narcissus, and phlox. A strange mix of flowers to be sure, which led Kaito to think… He ran to get his flower dictionary. So he didn’t know all the meanings by heart, sue him. As he pieced the message together, one flower that he missed, tucked into the middle of the bouquet, caught his eye. A single, pale blue, forget-me-not. Kaito’s breath caught in his throat. _It’s probably nothing,_ Kaito thought, _just a fan who recognized I did that in my thank-you bouquets._ He had seen the subreddit, which was just as embarrassing as the display window. But something about the bouquet felt different.

Iris, a message. It would be an unusual choice if it hadn’t been intentional. Appreciation, patience, hidden worth… hidden worth? We are connected? The narcissus paired with the monkshood. The sender thought they looked like the knight perhaps? Someone who looked like the man in Kaito’s dreams? Did he have the same dreams? Was this some kind of weird shared dream thing? It was then Kaito noticed the card. Nothing more than a name. _Kudou Shinichi_.

Kaito pulled out his phone and typed the name into Google. He instantly got a hit. Newspaper articles and news clips were among the first. For a hot second, Kaito was afraid he had somehow painted a criminal until he clicked on one of the articles and was greeted with a picture of this Kudou Shinichi along with the headline “Teen Detective Takes Down Japan’s Biggest Crime Ring”. First, sick, the guy wasn’t a criminal, second, the guy’s eyes were the same exact color as the knight’s. His thoughts were foggy, in shock with the similarity. Well, Kaito had to respond, didn’t he?

He spent some time researching (read: stalking) Kudou Shinichi, like he did with the other people he sent bouquets to, and found that the cafe beneath his friend Ran’s house was the best place to drop off his response since they often met there for breakfast. Ok, so maybe some of the criminal activity he had witnessed himself do in his dreams had rubbed off on his awake self, but the idea of disguising as other people was too useful to not learn and the only way to pull it off was to be able to get some really personal information. He snuck in just after the door was unlocked and placed his bouquet on Kudou’s usual table. Now all he had to do was wait.

He didn’t have to wait long and soon he and Kudou were sending each other multiple bouquets a week. They never exchanged physical words, but Kaito got a strong grip on Kudou’s personality, and he knew that he had to meet him. He felt like he couldn’t just meet Kudou at a coffee shop or such, with how weird his life had been lately, it was probably best to meet him in a private location, although just inviting him over to his house seemed a little much.

That’s when inspiration struck. He knew just the place to meet Kudou. What could Kaito say? He had a flair for the dramatic.

He was excited when he got the poplars, but day of, he felt like he might be sick. All of his worrying and pacing nearly made him late, but he arrived at the gardens just a few minutes before four. He knew the state of the place turned most people away, but he found it charming, in a way. Coupled with the sparse amount of other guests, the gardens felt like some hidden treasure, secreted away from the rest of the world.

He passed through the wisteria and was faced with the voluminous rose bushes. He took a deep breath. Despite all the articles on Kudou Kaito had looked through and all of the social media stalking and sometimes physical stalking, he had never seen the man head-on. If his willingness to talk to a random person with flowers of all things was anything to go by, Kudou would be just as kind in person. He couldn’t help but be nervous, however. Still, he had come this far, there was no turning back. It was time to see if Kudou was really the man from his dreams.

At first, Kaito was too nervous to look at Kudou, but he was able to slowly lift his gaze. Kudou looked like he just stepped out of a men’s wear magazine. He wore black dress shoes and cuffed, dark jeans. He wore a dark blue blazer that he left open layered on top of a white button-up shirt. And then Kaito finally met his eyes.

They were the same piercing blue that had been haunting his dreams for more than a month now. They seemed to freeze Kaito in place. He watched Kudou’s face shift from curiosity, to surprise, too, sadness? Kudou looked down for a brief moment, giving Kaito a confident smile for just a millisecond before he burst into tears. He was crying? Why was he crying? Kaito was worried, although some part of him couldn’t help but think how cute his crying face was. He looked like a little kid, barely holding back his sobs and rubbing at his eyes trying to stop the tears. 

Kaito felt something on his cheek. He raised a hand to his face and was surprised when he found tears of his own. The acknowledgement seemed to make it worse. His breath caught in his throat and he had to start gasping for air. His eyes began to sting from the salt, but the more he tried to blink them away, the more that seemed to surface. 

A cry from Kudou brought his attention back to the other man. It seemed like he hadn’t realised he made the noise. He was sitting on the ground now, still furiously scrubbing at his face. More small noises escaped his lips. The sight of the crying man made something twist into knots inside Kaito. Before he realised what he was doing, he rushed forward, falling to the ground by Kudou, wrapping his arms around the other. He didn’t know this man, but as Kaito buried his face into Kudou’s shoulder, he felt like he had known him all his life.

Kudou’s arms pulled Kaito closer to him and all he could smell was Kudou’s cologne and freshly brewed coffee. There was something so comfortingly nostalgic to the embrace, Kaito allowed himself to indulge in it for a moment. “Why are we crying?” Kaito said with a laugh. Kudou laughed and the sound was better than anything on planet Earth.

“I have no idea.”

❀

It took them a long while to compose themselves, and it was more than a little awkward when they had to disentangle themselves. There was a silence that hung in the air until Shinichi took the initiative. “I’m Kudou Shinichi.” He held out his hand. KID took it with a small laugh.

“Kuroba Kaito, it’s nice to meet you.” Kuroba Kaito, the name made Shinichi’s heart do somersaults in his chest.

“It’s nice to meet you too. Would, um… Would you like to go get something to eat? My treat.”

“First thing you should know about me, Kudou, is that I never turn down free food.”

Shinichi brought him to a cafe he frequented whenever work brought him into Haido. Their coffee wasn’t nearly as good as Poirot’s, but they had a large menu. They took a booth in the far corner, the place wasn’t busy but it was better to be safe rather than sorry. “So, what do you think? Do I look like the portrait?”

“You look so much like him it’s insane.” Kuroba shook his head in disbelief.

“Where did you get the idea for it anyway? I’ve been in the news before, as you probably know, could you have just remembered my face from then?”

“I wish that were the case.” Kuroba had a sad, wistful smile on his face. “How cheesy would it be if I said it came to me in a dream?”

“I don’t know, are you serious or are you hitting on me?”

“Mmm, a little bit of both.” That made Shinichi blush, he liked Kuroba, if any of the many times his heart nearly stopped were any indication, and he hoped the feeling was mutual. Kuroba must have seen how flustered that made Shinichi, he laughed. “Sorry, detective, didn’t mean to make you short circuit.”

“You said both,” Shinichi cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. That seemed to be something he had to do regularly around Kuroba. “Does that mean that you were serious about it coming from a dream, Kuroba?”

“Kaito,” he said in response, “I cried in your arms, detective, I think you have the right to call me by my first name. But yes, I was serious about it.”

“Well, you can call me Shinichi then, but part of me thinks you’re trying to flirt as a way to avoid talking about this dream of yours.”

“Then you don’t enjoy me flirting with you, Shinichi?” The way he said Shinichi’s name should have been a crime, but Shinichi couldn’t focus on that, he had a mystery to solve.

“Oh, I enjoy the flirting very much, Kaito.” Shinichi leaned forward, holding eye contact with the artist. He hadn’t put any special emphasis on his name, but Kaito shivered when Shinichi said his name. It was good to know Shinichi had the same effect on Kaito that Kaito had on him. “But I would enjoy it more if you weren’t using it as a shield.” Kaito sighed and looked down at his plate.

“It’s going to sound insane.”

“You know, I think I’ve heard just about everything in my line of work.” 

“I’ve been having recurring dreams for months, it would be the same dream over and over until I painted it and sent it to the Collective.”

“Huh, that is new.”

“See? It’s insane! I know I probably should have talked to a doctor at some point, but I didn’t think the dreams would cause any problems!”

“‘Didn’t think,’ so they have caused problems then?”

“They started to get more vivid, part of the reason my paintings are so detailed is because I could see and remember all of those details from my dreams. But the more I painted and the longer the dreams went on for, the more I started to have these moments during the day of weird responses I’ve never had before. These thoughts would cross my mind that might make sense according to the dreams I’ve been having, but not for _me_ as a person.”

“That is concerning, so the portrait, this was one of the last dreams you had?”

“A dream I’m still having, even after giving it to the gallery, it’s every night.”

“Could… could you tell me about it?”

“I’m standing on a castle wall,” Kaito began, “It’s a gorgeous night and I’m pleased that I pulled off another heist.”

“Heist? I know you made several paintings of different jewels and such, but that was because you were stealing them in these dreams?”

“Right,” Kaito nodded, but he had a far away look in his eyes, like he wasn’t completely present. “So I’m standing near the edge of the wall, and I turn around and find the knight coming up behind me. The first time I saw him, I was scared, but dream me just turned around and smiled. The dreams never have sound, so I don’t know what they talked about, but the knight dropped to one knee and says something. I nearly double over laughing so hard, and the knight’s looking at me smugly, and then I wake up.” Shinichi reached across the table and took hold of one of Kaito’s hands, which had wrapped themselves in a tight grip around his cup.

This seemed to shake Kaito out of whatever trace he had found himself in. He looked up, his face beginning to flush. “So that’s why you painted him?” Shinichi asked gently. Kaito nodded, suddenly looking shy. 

“When I did, it was like I was possessed. I lost a whole day just painting and I didn’t even realize. That’s why I decided not to paint anymore.”

“Well, it certainly is odd.” Shinichi tried to piece together what it meant. Dreams can sometimes be caused by subconscious thoughts, but if Kaito is certain he’d never seen Shinichi before, it was strange he would appear in the artist’s dreams. “They’re like repressed memories,” Shinichi muttered mostly to himself.

“Oh boy, memories from when I was a thief, how wonderful,” Kaito said sarcastically.

“I said ‘like’, not ‘are’. Obviously I don’t remember being a knight, unless it was someone else-”

“It’s you,” Kaito interrupted, “It’s definitely you.” Kaito looked at him with a shocking intensity that Shinichi had no choice but to believe him.

“Ok, well,” Shinichi said, trying to redirect the conversation, “What do the forget-me-nots have to do with your dreams? Unless I interpreted them wrong.”

“No, they definitely mean something, but I don’t know what either.”

“So they appeared in your dreams?”

“No, when I started to send the bouquets, it was like something inside me just kept pushing to include them. It meant something, but I didn’t know what.”

“I don’t know either, but that was how I figured out how to contact you. Maybe that had something to do with it?”

“Oh, Shinichi! How romantic! You think it was an act of fate?” Kaito batted his eyelashes, playing up the flirtation to a comedic degree.

“Maybe. There wasn’t anything you watched or read that used forget-me-nots as some kind of code, was there?”

“Nope. In my civilian life, I’m a magician, so I deal with flowers quite a bit, but I’ve never seen forget-me-nots used in, well, anything really.”

“You’re a magician? How many talents can someone have? But, that’s not the point.” Shinichi had to get himself back on track. Anytime he learned a scrap of information on Kaito he wanted to pursue it and dig deeper, to know him more and more. “So there isn’t any other meaning to the flower? I know some floriography dictionaries can have different meanings, but I haven’t seen more than the obvious.”

“Nope, like I said, I barely knew the flower existed.”

“So why did you send two with those roses?”

“I… I did what?” Kaito genuinely looked confused.

“You didn’t realise you put two in?”

“I didn’t realise I put a forget-me-not in at all! I didn’t want to accidentally change the meaning of the roses by including a different flower!”

“So, the forget-me-nots don’t mean anything? I can’t believe that’s true, I might not have understood what the bouquet meant if Ran hadn’t been there…”

“What do you mean?” Kaito asked when Shinichi trailed off.

“My friend, Ran, was there when I got the bouquet, and I didn’t know what it meant. I showed her the pair of forget-me-nots, and she said they were like ‘two lovers meeting’.” Shinichi was embarrassed saying it out loud, but a light bulb had went off when she said it, it seemed important to mention. 

“Maybe it _was_ an act of fate,” Kaito said, “Because that makes perfect sense.”

“I refuse to just claim this was all ‘fate’, that isn’t logical. Almost none of this is logical.”

“Shinichi, I think you’ll come to find that life around me almost never is.” Kaito smiled a wild grin, one that looked so similar to the one his signature had, and it brought back Shinichi’s butterflies.

“I’m supposed to believe that’s a good thing?” Kaito squeezed Shinichi’s hand, he had forgotten that he was holding it.

“Detective, I’ll make sure it is. I don’t know why I started having these dreams, but, honestly? I don’t really care anymore if they lead me to you.”

“You’re quite the smooth talker, aren’t you?”

“A magician does much better when he’s charming,” Kaito said with a wink.

“Ok Mr. Charisma, how about you finish up your meal and we can continue with this date, no more weird painting dream talk.”

“This is a date?” Kaito looked surprised.

“I’m paying for your meal, aren’t I? And we’ve been flirting? I thought you knew.”

“I’m not complaining, but warn a guy, will you? I haven’t been bringing my A game!” Shinichi laughed.

“What, like you have to convince me to want to date you? I thought you said fate brought us together, and I’m not one to go against the whims of fate.”

“I thought you said you didn’t believe in fate!”

“I do, only when it suits me.” Kaito laughed. Every time Shinichi heard the sound he couldn’t help but smile. If this was what Kaito’s weird dream version of him heard, and has been hearing every night, he was just the slightest bit envious.

Shinichi didn’t believe in fate, but if the universe had somehow conspired to bring Kaito to him, he couldn’t be anything other than grateful.

❀

The phantom thief KID stood alone on the roof of the summer castle of the Suzuki family. The royal family had been in power for years and were generally agreed by their citizens to be kind and fair rulers. This, however, did not stop Jirokichi, Uncle to the current king, from flaunting their wealth and taunting KID in particular, inviting him to try and steal their many jewels. The man surfaced once every couple of months to try to lay a trap to catch KID, but he never did.

His prize tonight was a stunning pearl ring, as black as the night sky. The queen, whom the ring had belonged to, had been furious when Jirokichi had offered the thing up as the target, doubly so when she found it had been removed from her finger. The queen just wanted to throw a party in celebration for a recent trade agreement, KID had spoiled her fun. Disguising as one of her daughters’ ladies in waiting had definitely been the right decision. He had ditched the disguise a while ago, it would lessen the lecture he was bound to receive from the knight who was currently approaching him. He turned with his signature grin.

“They sent their best bloodhound after me, I see. Or is it because I disguised myself as your charge?” KID couldn’t see the knight’s face, but he knew he was rolling his eyes.

“Both,” the knight said, his usually perfect posture relaxing. “Not only do we have to deal with Her Majesty’s anger, but now also Her Highness’s. Although the latter isn’t sure whether she’s more angry you disguised as her best friend or that you were so close and she didn’t notice.”

“Oh?” KID tried to suppress a laugh, “Her Highness still has a crush on me then?”

“I wouldn’t call it a crush,” the knight’s nose scrunched in disgust. “I think it’s some insane kind of infatuation.” That made KID laugh.

“Then maybe I should just take this ring and propose to Her Highness with it, then I wouldn’t have to steal the family’s riches, I could just take them.”

“I think that would be the worst possible outcome, besides, Sonoko isn’t the one you want, is she?” The knight’s smirk came back to his lips as he casually strolled up to KID.

“Hmm, I suppose I could be persuaded if a better deal came along.”

“Then let me make my offer,” the knight said, falling to one knee. “Oh, my insufferable phantom, this humble knight might have the task of catching you and turning you into the kingdom where you would most certainly be held in the dungeon until the day you die, but I have fallen madly in love with you! Please, offer me the ring instead of the incredibly annoying Princess Sonoko!” The knight included a lot of highly dramatic hand gestures to ensure his point came across. KID doubled over, nearly choking from how hard he was laughing. 

“How on Earth can you say that with a straight face!” He managed to choke out between laughs. The knight peered up at him from beneath his helmet, a smile on his face, his blue eyes glowing under the light of the full moon.

“One, because my mother was an actress before she married my father, and two, because I knew it would make you laugh. And it’s a sound sweeter than all the honey in the land, my love.” That made KID blush.

“So did they really send you after me? Or-” the knight stopped him before he could finish, revealing two flowers clutched tightly in one hand.

“I never miss a message from you, dearest. They haven’t suspected a thing yet, they just think I ran after Ran, you know, like my job requires me?”

“I still think it’s hilarious that Sonoko gave her a dedicated bodyguard, she could beat up at least twenty men before she broke a sweat. KID took a seat across from the knight, who had shifted from his kneeling position to do the same.

“It’s more a formality thing, it was honestly pretty nice of Sonoko, had I been asked to do anything else I probably wouldn’t be able to spend as much time with Ran as I do.” The knight reached up and removed his helmet, breathing in the crisp spring air. KID reached over and pushed the sweat soaked hair out of his lover’s eyes.

“And another thing, Kaito,” he said, plucking the monocle from his face. Here it was, the lecture Kaito had dreaded. “Did you really have to disguise as Ran, that was the one time, remember.”

“I _know_ , Shinichi. She was the only one I could play accurately in such a short time with such a close proximity to Her Majesty, and, yes, I made sure to knock Ran out as gently as possible. She should still be asleep in her chambers.” Shinichi frowned, upset he couldn’t complain as much as he wanted too.

“Well, I guess if you already thought this all through.” Kaito pulled down his hood and smiled at the knight, who was twirling the flowers between his fingers.

“I always think it through, Shinichi. I almost never take any unnecessary risks.”

“Almost never, isn’t never.”

“Well, I have to take some risks if I want to impress you.”

“Only me, huh? So if I don’t show up the next time Jirokichi asks you to steal something, it will be calmer?”

“Oh, definitely, you should see how boring some of my heists in the neighboring kingdoms are, they’d put you to sleep. You’re just far too clever, my dear.” Shinichi laughed, short and bright.

“Much more clever when I’m not around you, dearest. Your presence fogs my mind and I can barely think of anything other than you.”

“I wish that meant you couldn’t see through my tricks.” Kaito leaned forward, resting his head against Shinichi’s chest.

“Oh, but that’s the fun of it, knowing I’m the only one who can truly appreciate your talents.”

“You’re a terrible audience member,” Kaito whispered. It was true, Shinichi could never just watch Kaito perform. Of course, it was partly because Shinichi was tasked with catching KID. Mostly, Shinichi was just too smart. Kaito had been terrified the first time Shinichi had confronted him after a heist. He showed up alone and started deducing how Kaito had managed to perform that night’s trick. Kaito had been too stunned to move, barely able to maintain his poker face.

What was more surprising was when Shinichi complimented KID. A royal knight, from a noble family, complimenting a criminal. It had made Kaito’s heart skip a beat. Shinichi then showed up after all of his Suzuki heists, their banter turned into conversations. The tension between them as a knight and thief eased and a new kind of tension formed. It had been Kaito’s idea to start sending Shinichi flowers. It wasn’t a big trend, but many suitors at the time would send the object of their affections bouquets with all sorts of messages. As attractive as Shinichi was, it was no surprise he would receive a bouquet or two.

In order to keep his identity secret while ensuring Shinichi would know who the bouquet was from, he would include a single forget-me-not.

This flower became a way for the two to communicate. Kaito would leave notes to be delivered to Shinichi with the flower as a signature, and when Kaito finally revealed his name, Shinichi could do the same. They allowed their relationship to remain secret, allowing them time to figure out how they could meet without raising suspicion. And when the two went for too long without meeting, the signal of two forget-me-nots, tied together, was formed.

They always met on the castle wall, high above the rest of the world.

“You’re spacing out again,” Shinichi said, running his hand through Kaito’s hair.

“I can’t help it, you just give me so much to think about.” Shinichi gave a breathy laugh, which made Kaito smile. “Do you think,” he said, sitting up so he could look Shinichi in the eyes, “that one day, we can be together without it having to be a secret?”

“I hope, love, but it has to be the right time.”

“I know.” Kaito sighed and let himself fall back onto the ground, looking at the sky. The stars always seemed brighter from up on the castle walls. Maybe it was because he was closer to them. “Do you think the heavens watch over us, Shinichi?”

“Well, it might be blasphemous, but I believe in having evidence before I decide whether or not something does or does not exist.” Shinichi laid down next to him, slipping his hand into Kaito’s. “But I think it would be nice if they did.”

“Then, if the gods do exist, why do you think they put so many obstacles between us?” Shinichi was silent for a moment. Kaito stole a glance at him, his brow was furrowed in thought, but it looked like he was scowling at the stars.

“It might be the opposite,” Shinichi finally said, his face relaxing into a small smile, “Despite everything, we were brought together.”

“I hope that in our next life they make it easier on us.”

“I can’t imagine lightning striking twice. We found each other in this life, why should we think that if there _is_ another life we could find each other again?”

“I’ll make sure to find you!” Kaito sat up, determination on his face. “No matter when or where or how, I’ll find you, or I’ll make sure you can find me!”

“I doubt if there is such a thing as reincarnation that you could possibly remember your previous lives.”

“Oh, but I am a magician my dear, achieving the impossible is what I do.” Kaito gave his smile that meant he was up to no good. “Plus, Fate has always been kind to me, I’m sure future me can figure something out.”

“But what if I look different, how will you know it’s me when you find me?”

“I’ll know, my dear, because my soul knows yours far too intimately to ever be deceived.”

“Even so, the world is so vast, what happens if we are born oceans apart?”

“Then, my love, I will make sure the world knows you, I will paint your image until the world gets sick of you and no one can love your face but me. Everyone on Earth will help me find you if they think it will stop me.”

“So even in your next life you plan on being a menace?” Shinichi said with a smile.

“Of course, how else will you be sure it’s me?”

“This is how,” Shinichi sat up and pulled out the two forget-me-nots, still tied at the stem. Gingerly, he undid the knot. The flowers still looked healthy despite the time they had spent tied together. Shinichi took one of the flowers and tied it into a new shape, then did the same with the other. He then took the glove off of Kaito’s left hand and slid the newly formed ring onto his finger. Taking the initiative, Kaito quickly did the same to Shinichi, then he sat back and looked at the flower, it’s pale blue petals seemed to glow in the moonlight.

“You’re such a sap,” Kaito laughed.

“Isn’t that why you love me?”

“One of the many reasons,” Kaito cupped Shinichi’s face in one hand and kissed him, gentle and sweet. “But I still fail to see how this is better than me being a public nuisance.”

“Myosotis has multiple meanings.”

“Do not forget me,” Kaito said in the kind of tone that meant, ‘duh’.

“And true love’s memories, did you not know?” Shinichi laughed, “I thought that was why you picked it.”

“So as long as I use them you’ll know it’s me?”

“I said so before, I never miss a message from you. Whether we remember this life or not, my heart will forget you not.”

“That’s putting an awful lot of faith in the universe for someone who needs evidence.”

“If I can find you again, my love, that’s all the proof I need.”

**Author's Note:**

> I want to say thank you again to the amazing qxiu for letting me collaborate with her on this wonderful au! I fell in love with her wip and when she told me it was a reincarnation au I just about died! It was such an honor to be able to work with one of my favorite artists and I can't sing her praises enough! And, of course, thank you to the wonderful Mac for letting me participate in their incredible event! They do such an amazing job in organizing and keeping us all on track! I hope you all will enjoy all of the incredible work that comes out of this bang!


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